Reunion
by Vistagazer
Summary: Sequel to "When You Wish". Draco is forced to face Ron after the wish he made. Will they be able to reconcile their differences?


I'm terribly sorry this has taken so long. I've been busy with university. This is a sequel to the story When You Wish and you really need to read it first or you won't understand this story. And in response to some questions, yes Draco does remember both lives. Thank you to everyone who wrote asking for a sequel, I hope this lives up to your expectations. And pretty please leave me some reviews!  
  
~~~ooOOoo~~~  
  
Reunion  
  
The sun was blazing in the sky, pounding noon-time heat onto the scurrying pedestrians below and Draco Malfoy was still in bed. Tangled in a musty sheet, he was oblivious to the frantic rush of London's streets. That is, until a double-decker bus honked its horn just outside his flat. The blaring noise jolted him into sudden consciousness. He struggled valiantly to untangle himself from the sheet and rolled over to check his clock. It read 12:11 pm.  
  
Great, he thought, another riveting day of being unemployed.  
  
Heaving himself to his feet, Draco staggered over to the window and pushed aside the curtains. A few stories below him, the Muggles bustled about importantly, hurrying to their various destinations. All of them completely unaware of the tragedy that had been so narrowly averted a mere month ago.  
  
Voldemort had been defeated in an epic final battle with Harry Potter.  
  
Or, at least, that's what Draco had read in The Daily Prophet. His father's incarceration in Azkaban five years ago and his mother's subsequent insanity which had warranted a permanent room at St. Mungo's, had made Draco Malfoy the wizarding world's most famous recluse. That, coupled with his intense dislike for both Voldemort and The Boy Who Made Him Nauseous, created a fiery desire in Draco not to participate in the fight.  
  
I've fought enough for two lifetimes, he thought sadly.  
  
He was, therefore, understandably distressed when a shining gold envelope had arrived at his window two days prior, carried by a tiny owl he vaguely recognized. The shimmering article was out of place in Draco's small, dingy flat; too clean and crisp among the piles of dirty dishes and unwashed laundry. The minuscule owl had darted through the room before leaving as quickly as it had come, leaving a bewildered Draco holding the envelope. His name shone in sparkling letters but there was no return address on the envelope, and no name, at first glance, on the invitation he produced.  
  
You have been invited to a celebration at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and  
Wizardry!  
  
the invitation proclaimed.  
  
Come rejoice in the defeat of You Know Who, as well as re-unite with old  
classmates!  
  
This was followed by the date and time of the party, and a list of people who would be making appearances, including retired headmaster Albus Dumbledore, and a newly-cleared Sirius Black.  
  
Draco had been aghast when he had read the invitation. Who on earth had the audacity to interrupt his hermit-ness by inviting him to a party? Draco had scowled fiercely at the invitation before flipping it over to check the back, where he found his answer.  
  
You had better be there, Ferret. Weasel.  
  
So now, here he was, staring out the window, on the day of the event, contemplating whether or not to go. His brain screamed that he should stay home and wallow in his loneliness, like every other day, but his conscience, and his heart, strongly disagreed. It's time to come out of hiding, they said, time to go back to where you're from and start living again. And for the love of God, move out of this hole and back into the Manor! On this last part his brain was quick to agree. His flat was cramped, dirty and smelled quite disturbing. The sole heir to the Malfoy fortune could afford much better. He had chosen this flat in an attempt to remain anonymous, but there were always pictures of him popping up in Witch Weekly followed by captions such as "How does he get his hair so blond? Witch Weekly has the answer!". But if he was going to move back to his house, he was also going to have to visit Diagon Alley for the first time in nearly six years.  
  
~~~ooOOoo~~~  
  
Upon entering the Leaky Cauldron, Draco caused a slight hiccup in conversation. His face was recognizable in the extreme, especially for those who had seen or known his father. Indeed, Draco spotted a couple of ministry officials he remembered from his father's dinner parties. They stared openly.  
  
Draco hesitated only briefly before striding to the back of the pub and out the door. Once out of sight, conversations began buzzing about the sudden reappearance of the son of one of the most notorious dark wizards. The consensus was that only the persuasion from some one very close to him would bring him back into the public. But who could be so close when he hadn't spoken a word to a witch or wizard since graduation?  
  
Draco leaned heavily on the stone wall outside the pub. After five years of seclusion, throwing himself back into the world of magic was proving harder than anticipated. Even his wand, once a dear friend, now felt strange, clutched in his pale hand after years of dust-collecting. He lifted his trembling hand and tapped his wand in succession across the bricks. At first nothing happened and Draco feared the pattern had been changed, or else he had forgotten and tapped the wrong bricks. He didn't want to go back inside to ask for help and was considering forgetting the whole thing and apparating home, when dust erupted from between the stones and they began moving. Sighing, Draco stepped through the doorway and into the bustling crowd. He was jostled about in the horde of shoppers which startled him. He had grown accustomed to moving slowly, but everyone here was in such a hurry. He drew a couple of strange glances before forcing his legs to move faster. He ducked into Madam Malkin's, leaning back against the door as it closed behind him. The shop was deserted. It was early June, so there were no students in need of new robes just yet. Draco took a moment to gaze around the shop. It looked exactly the same, as if they had purposely kept it that way in anticipation of his return.  
  
"Mr. Malfoy?"  
  
Draco was snapped back into reality. Madam Malkin had appeared from the back of the shop and now stood in front of him. She looked older; wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, and more white in her hair. Draco was at a loss for words. He stared.  
  
"Bless me!" she exclaimed. "Must be five years since last I saw you in my shop!"  
  
"Six," Draco mumbled. "I, uhh." he gestured to his clothing, a pair of Muggle jeans and a sweatshirt.  
  
"Of course, my dear, of course!" she cried, pulling out her tape measure.  
  
She scampered back behind the counter as the tape measure continued on its own. She heaved out a great armful of fabrics.  
  
"What is it you're looking for then?" she asked.  
  
"Er, just a plain pair of black trousers and a red shirt for now," Draco said. "And a cloak, open in the front and tying around the neck."  
  
Long robes had gone out of style, or so Draco had read. Simple capes or cloaks over pants and a shirt were now the preferred fashion for men.  
  
"A red shirt, dear?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
She smiled and pulled out the materials.  
  
"Did you want the Hogwarts crest on the cloak?" she inquired softly.  
  
"Yes."  
  
~~~ooOOoo~~~  
  
The Great Hall at Hogwarts had never been so marvellously decorated. Massive banners from all four houses hung from the ceiling. On these banners each respective house mascot moved and hissed, roared, cawed or snuffled as the case may be. Streamers fell onto the guests, appearing from nowhere and disappearing before they could make a mess on the floor. All the suits of armour had been highly polished and gleamed in the sunlight which streamed from overhead. Miniature red, green, blue and yellow fireworks crackled through the air, entertaining some of the smaller children. The long tables had been removed with several small tables scattered about with food, but leaving a good deal of room for mingling. Harry Potter stood off to one side with Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger.  
  
"I think the entire wizarding world has been invited," Hermione observed, glancing around the packed hall.  
  
At twenty-three, the trio of best friends looked mostly the same as they had in their days at school. Hermione, now Professor of Arithmancy at Hogwarts, had cut her hair shorter to avoid its continual frizziness. It made her look younger than she actually was. Harry had grown unbelievably. He was now almost as tall as Ron, but he was still as skinny as ever, his hair still as messy. But there was a certain seriousness in his face which had never before existed. It was Ron who had changed the most dramatically. Hard training to become an Auror had built up a good deal of muscle on the previously gangly boy. A scar ran across his right eye. His hair was also short because of Auror regulations and his face had filled out, allowing his nose to become more proportionate to the rest of his features. Many of the young witches in the hall were casting him smiles and glances. He ignored them.  
  
"D'you think he'll show up?" Harry asked.  
  
"Dunno," Ron scowled. "He'd better."  
  
At that moment, Albus Dumbledore stepped up to the stage which had been erected at the far end of the hall and called for everyone's attention. Silence followed almost immediately.  
  
"Welcome, everyone!" he smiled.  
  
He started into a speech, but Ron was not paying attention. He had just spotted a silver-blond head slip into the crowd, obviously hoping to go unnoticed. Ron slid away from Harry and Hermione who were both listening to Dumbledore's speech, and wove through the crowd until he was alongside the young man who was one of only two Slytherins at the gathering.  
  
Draco growled as Ron came up beside him.  
  
"I was hoping to avoid you," he hissed.  
  
"Surprise, surprise," said Ron. "But what did you expect? That I'd invite you and then ignore you for the whole day? Wishing no one would even notice you're here, I expect."  
  
Draco snapped his head around to look at Ron.  
  
"I don't wish for anything anymore," he said.  
  
Ron was startled at his harsh, almost angry tone, and confused by what Draco had said.  
  
"Okay. Nice shirt."  
  
Draco snorted, almost laughing. He had noticed that many around were similarly attired and congratulated himself for always being so up to date on the latest fashions. There was a sudden outburst of applause and both men looked up. Dumbledore had finished his speech and conversation was resuming in the hall.  
  
"So." Ron said. "You look better than I remember."  
  
He flushed immediately, realizing how that must have sounded, when in reality he only meant that Draco looked healthier. Malfoy had also gained weight, but it was good, as it had removed most of his sharp features and angles. His face was smoother now, not as pointed, and his arms weren't as spindly. His hair was still slicked back the way he always used to do it, but it suited him better now.  
  
"And you look bigger than I remember," Draco responded in an exasperated tone. "Why did you invite me here, Weasley?"  
  
"Because you went to this school, Malfoy," Ron frowned. "Or perhaps you've forgotten. We used to go to class here, and this is a class reunion as much as a celebration."  
  
"Then I would have received an invitation just like everyone else's," Draco said. "But mine came from you. Personally."  
  
Ron was silent. Harry and Hermione were pretending not to watch from the other end of the Hall, and failing miserably. He glowered at them.  
  
"When I saw your name on the list I figured you'd need a little extra.persuasion in order to attend," he responded finally.  
  
"And you thought a note from you would be the best form of said persuasion?" Draco laughed. "Are you daft, Weasley? We hated each other, for Merlin's sake! What makes you think that your note is what compelled me to come?"  
  
"Was it?"  
  
Draco paused, then looked away.  
  
"Yes."  
  
Ron smirked.  
  
"Don't look so pleased with yourself, Ron," Draco said. "Your note merely provided me with an excuse to get out of my flat. This grand event is not what drew me out. Exactly why were you so adamant that I be here?"  
  
"I hoped we might discuss some things that happened before graduation."  
  
"Graduation?" Draco gaped. "That was five years ago! Surely you've been able to get over whatever names I called you then."  
  
Ron shook his head and looked uncomfortable.  
  
"No? You haven't been able to get over it? My God, Weasley, that's sad."  
  
"No!" Ron cried. "I meant that's not what I wanted to talk about."  
  
Draco crossed his arms across his chest and gave Ron a scornful look.  
  
"What is it then?"  
  
"Well, it was shortly before we graduated, just after that article in The Daily Prophet about your dad," he glanced at Draco, who did not react, so he continued. "One day you went out for a ride on your broom, I guess, and when you came back you were, well, different.sort of happy. And you hugged Harry and Hermione, and you, er, you kissed me."  
  
Draco stood, stoney-faced, waiting.  
  
"Well?" Ron implored.  
  
"Well what? You haven't asked me anything!" Draco said.  
  
"Why!" Ron blurted. "Why did you kiss me?"  
  
Off to their right Ron heard Seamus Finnigan snickering. He shot the Irishman a glare.  
  
"That's why you invited me here?" Draco asked. "To find out why I kissed when I was obviously out of my mind, five years ago?"  
  
"Well, yeah," Ron replied sheepishly.  
  
Draco surveyed Ron for a full minute, looking for any sign that the red- head was simply looking for a means to poke fun at him. He frowned when he could find none.  
  
"Wait here," Draco said forcefully.  
  
He left Ron standing, baffled and alone, and began making his way through the crowd. Ron watched as Draco sought out Dumbledore and conferred with him for a few minutes. Dumbledore listened intently and, after some time, smiled in a fatherly way at Draco, nodded, and leaned in to whisper something in Draco's ear.  
  
"What was that about?" Ron asked when Draco was back.  
  
"I need a certain instrument, which only Dumbledore possesses, in order to explain why I kissed you. It's upstairs in the new Headmistress's office, but Dumbledore's given us permission to use it," Draco said, and without further explanation he left the Great Hall.  
  
"Hey, wait!" Ron cried, running after him.  
  
Harry and Hermione watched them leave.  
  
"What's going on, d'you reckon?" Harry turned to Hermione.  
  
She shrugged and took a sip of her Butterbeer.  
  
"Either they're going to duel, or," she grinned wickedly, "Ron just got a date."  
  
~~~ooOOoo~~~  
  
Ron stood gazing around the Headmistress's office. Dumbledore had provided Draco with the password to get in ("Nimbus") and had also apparently told Draco where this instrument he needed was to be found, as Draco was now on all fours rummaging through a cupboard.  
  
The office was much the same as Ron remembered, especially since it was Professor McGonagall who was now Headmistress. The portraits of former Headmasters and Mistresses hung on the walls, though many were either away from the summer or taking an afternoon siesta.  
  
"Aha!" Draco proclaimed, making to stand up and banging his head on the top of the cupboard.  
  
He swore and Ron stifled a laugh. Draco hobbled over to the desk by which Ron was standing and placed a stone bowl on it, rubbing his head.  
  
"What is it?" Ron asked.  
  
"It's called a Pensieve," Draco said. "You can store your memories in it, to be viewed again whenever you want."  
  
Ron looked at the bowl warily, as if afraid that it might suddenly leap up and steal his brain.  
  
"Don't worry," Draco assured him, seeing the look on his face. "You're the one who's going to be watching. I'm putting my memories in it."  
  
Draco raised his wand to his temple. His face was screwed up with concentration, and then he brought the wand away, a stream of silver trailing behind it. He placed it into the Pensieve and stirred it with his wand.  
  
"Look," he instructed Ron.  
  
Ron obediently leaned forward. He saw Draco watching Harry in a Care of Magical Creatures class. He remembered this day, though indistinctly, as the day before Draco had kissed him.  
  
"Now I've tried to condense this into flashes," Draco explained. "Because otherwise it would take you months to watch the whole thing. Hopefully it will only take you ten, fifteen minutes tops."  
  
Ron looked obviously confused, having never used a Pensieve before.  
  
"Lean in," Draco said. "Until your nose touches the silvery stuff. I promise you won't die."  
  
"Oh, well if you promise," Ron said sarcastically.  
  
Nevertheless he bent forward until his nose touched the swirling silver cloud of thought. He felt as though he had tumbled forward, and he landed most ungracefully on his back. Struggling to his feet, he had just enough time to see the group of them in Care of Magical Creatures before-  
  
Flash  
  
"Here, Ferret, you might want to have a look at this," Ron grinned, thrusting the Daily Prophet at Draco.  
  
Flash  
  
Draco pouring over books about wishes in the school library.  
  
Flash  
  
"Where can I find her?" Draco whispered.  
  
"At the edge of the Monadhliath Mountains," Trelawny whispered back. "They're north and west of the school. The well is inside a small Christian temple just to the south in the forest, it's-" She stopped abruptly and her floaty manner disappeared. She seemed to realize she had said far too much.  
  
Flash  
  
A forest at night.  
  
Flash  
  
A small stone building.  
  
Flash  
  
A beautiful woman was floating in mid-air in front of him. There was a glowing light surrounding her and it seemed to give of heat. She had long, curly locks of strawberry blonde hair cascading down her shoulders. Her skin was a creamy ivory colour which seemed to shine from the light around her. Starting just below her belly button was a long, slim fish tail.  
  
Flash  
  
"I wish," Draco said slowly. "That Harry Potter had never been born."  
  
Flash  
  
Draco standing in the Slytherin common room, surrounded by people, all pointing their wands at him, including, to Ron's surprise, himself.  
  
Flash  
  
Cedric Diggory, his face horribly disfigured, but very much alive.  
  
Flash  
  
Ron placing a comforting hand on Draco's knee. Looking disgusted, Draco shoved it away.  
  
Flash  
  
Draco battling against a sea of Death Eaters, giants and Dementors.  
  
Flash  
  
Ron's fist connecting with Draco's chin.  
  
Flash  
  
Draco killing Dean Thomas.  
  
Flash  
  
Harry Potter's face, slowly fading away.  
  
Flash  
  
A glowing blue light and whispered voices.  
  
Flash  
  
A tangle of limbs and a flash of red hair.  
  
Flash  
  
"I did it for Percy."  
  
Flash  
  
A fist clutching a still-beating heart. Hermione falling to the ground.  
  
Flash  
  
"No, you have to change it back!" There was a crack as the metal hit bone.  
  
Flash  
  
Ron was catapulted out of the Pensieve. He hit the floor hard and rolled into a cabinet which shook violently. His whole body was trembling and he panted as he struggled to his feet. Draco was leaning against a wall, looking completely relaxed. He watched and Ron uneasily sat into a nearby chair.  
  
"That- that was, your life?" Ron stammered, trying to understand.  
  
"Not this one, obviously," Draco said.  
  
"No, no. you, you made a wish," Ron said. "And then Harry was never born and we were fighting against, against. Snape?"  
  
"Yes," Draco confirmed. "It seems our potions master does indeed have the ability to be evil."  
  
"But here he's, he's-" Ron trailed away.  
  
"Totally harmless," Draco finished.  
  
Ron ran a shaky hand through his hair. This was all just too much.  
  
"So after you made this wish, did you remember what it was like here?" Ron asked.  
  
"At first," Draco answered. "But then things started getting fuzzy. Memories of life here were replaced with memories of life there. After a while I forgot this life. That was the way it had always been."  
  
"And now?"  
  
"I remember everything about being there, from the time I was a small child up until I died."  
  
"A whole 'nother lifetime?" Ron looked aghast.  
  
"Yes," Draco nodded. "It's my punishment for making that wish. I'll always remember. I remember when I was younger how my father would talk about our glorious cause. How we would one day rid the world of the Mudblood filth. I remember when Voldemort killed him and I ran away to join you and the Resistance. I remember that last day, when Snape set that Dementor on you. I remember that look on your face, and then you, you-"  
  
Draco turned away sharply from Ron, drawing a series of ragged breaths. When he turned back his eyes were bright with tears.  
  
"And then I got back here and you were all fine!" he cried. "Bloody school children and happy as fucking clams! I was beyond happy, Ron, so excuse me if I expressed it in a way that you found inappropriate. I'm sorry if I've caused you five years of worry over one kiss, but I have a lifetime to worry about!"  
  
Ron was speechless. He stared at Draco whose chest was heaving. This was obviously the first time he had talked about this with anyone in years and he was having a hard time dealing. He stood from his chair and walked over to Draco who was still shuddering.  
  
"You and I," he said quietly. "In that world, we were lovers?"  
  
Draco squeezed his eyes shut and nodded once.  
  
"What? No good looking girls with perfectly centred noses?" Ron said.  
  
Draco choked a laugh and opened his eyes again to stare the taller man in the face.  
  
"Even if there had been, it wouldn't have mattered," Draco said. "It was more than just a relationship of convenience, Ron. As disturbing as this will sound to you, we were very much in love."  
  
Ron appeared not to react.  
  
"But the Ron I loved is dead now," Draco continued. "You are a totally different person than he was, though you may look the same. You've lived a different life than he did, a much easier life. Although."  
  
Draco reached a hand up to Ron's face and traced a finger along the scar which ran across Ron's eye. It was just like the one his Ron had had. He dropped his hand down to Ron's chest. Ron was wearing a shirt with buttons. Draco started undoing them.  
  
"What are you doing?" Ron asked and tried to take a step back. Draco put his hand on Ron's shoulder and held him still.  
  
"Just checking."  
  
With the first few buttons undone, Draco opened Ron's shirt. His chest was fairly pale and flaked with freckles. And Draco saw that over Ron's heart there was a jagged scar. He touched it with his hands.  
  
"Where did you get this," he whispered.  
  
"In the final battle," Ron replied. "Ludo Bagman. But I killed him."  
  
Draco backed up a few paces while Ron did his shirt back up. He looked very confused staring at Ron with wide eyes.  
  
"Draco, what-"  
  
"I should never have come here," Draco said, shaking his head. "Too many.too many memories. I'm sorry."  
  
He turned to leave but Ron darted forward and grabbed Draco's arm, spinning him around. The momentum swung Draco around hard and he slammed into Ron. He gasped as he felt Ron's heartbeat against his chest. They stood there for a moment, pressed against each other, Ron's hand still gripping Draco's arm tightly. Secretly, Draco had imagined this before. Although he knew that this Ron was different, he always thought it would be nice to see the familiar face. But now that he was here. This Ron looked so much like his Ron. Short hair, serious face and the scars. And this heartbeat, beating with his, the way it was supposed to.  
  
"Draco," Ron said quietly, and put his other hand on Draco's cheek.  
  
Draco closed his eyes briefly and leaned into the touch. For a moment he was happy again. Then his eyes flew open and he stumbled back. Ron staggered from Draco's sudden movement and was not fast enough to catch him before he ran through the door and down the stairs.  
  
Ron slumped back into a chair, taking several deep breaths. He didn't know how long he sat there but eventually Harry and Hermione came running in.  
  
"What happened?" Hermione asked.  
  
"Yeah, we saw Malfoy leaving," said Harry. "He looked really upset. Did you two have a fight?"  
  
"No, oddly enough," Ron said. "But you guys won't believe what he showed me."  
  
~~~ooOOoo~~~  
  
It was good to be back at Malfoy Manor. Draco traipsed through the hallways of the home he had once known so well. Now, after being away for so long he found it was easy to get lost. Because no one had lived there in years, all the house elves were gone, so it was very dusty and every step he took stirred up a cloud. The paintings on the walls had cobwebs hanging from them and the paint was starting to peel. The portraits were empty though, and Draco didn't know where the occupants had gone. It would have been eerie had Draco not felt so good to be home.  
  
Over the next few months Draco hired some workers to help him clean the Manor. The empty portraits were taken away and the walls and floors were scrubbed clean. Draco gave away all the dark green and black furniture his father had been so fond of. With the vast fortune left by his parents Draco bought new, brighter furniture and decorations and soon the Manor was a friendly looking home. He then hired a team of gardeners to tackle the grounds which had become overgrown after so much time left untended.  
  
Nearly a year after Draco had moved back home Malfoy Manor was transformed. The grounds were tastefully pruned with many bright flowers and small shrubs. It was the subject of many articles in Witch Weekly's "Green Thumb" section. The Manor was no longer a dark, imposing structure but an inviting house with vines climbing up the walls.  
  
One evening as Draco was heading upstairs to go to bed he heard the echo of a knock at the door. No one had ever visited in all this time except the workers he had hired, and any work on the house was long since finished. Draco considered ignoring it but when the knock sounded again he turned and went back down the stairs. At first when Draco opened the door he couldn't see who it was because it was so dark outside. Then the figure stepped forward and Draco recognized the red hair.  
  
"Ron!" he cried. "What are you doing here?"  
  
Ron scowled and didn't reply.  
  
"Ron?"  
  
"I've spent the last year trying not to think about you," Ron said at last.  
  
"I find that you do tend to spend an inordinate amount of time worrying about me," Draco agreed.  
  
"Look," Ron said. "I know I'm not exactly like your Ron, and I know you don't think I'm like him either. But I thought, maybe, we could get to know each other a little bit better. Because you don't really have any friends and I think you could use some company."  
  
He said all this very fast and was left gasping for breath. Ron couldn't tell what the emotion was he was seeing on Draco's face. It was like pain and longing and fright all in one.  
  
"And, maybe, you'll find out that I'm a lot like the Ron you remember," Ron murmured.  
  
They stood in silence for what felt like hours. Then Draco rushed forward and hugged Ron, who wrapped his arms around the smaller man. Draco held onto Ron for a few moments before releasing him  
  
"I'd very much like to get to know you better, Ron Weasley," he said smiling widely.  
  
"I don't think I've ever seen you smile like that before, Draco Malfoy," Ron said. "It suits you."  
  
Draco continued smiling.  
  
"Why don't you come in?" he said. "We can catch up on lost time."  
  
Draco led Ron inside and shut the door behind them.  
  
The End 


End file.
